Alternatepalooza
by Alpacca Joe
Summary: What if Daria had never developed a crush on Trent? The Road Worrier in an alternate world. M for brief language.


**Alternatepalooza**

Daria and Jane wandered down into the basement, following the badly tuned, out-of-tempo guitars and found Trent and Jesse strumming in front of a pair of mic stands. Daria felt the usual mix of contradictory emotions when her eyes fell on the elder Lane, and tried to keep from sneering as he opened his mouth and started to sing.

"You're an angel in black..."

Jane glanced at her friend and smirked as she watched the shorter girl bite her lips to stop laughter. Yeah, the Spiral's songs were pretty bad, but any excuse to see Daria smile.

The song came to an abrupt end when Jane shouted at her brother over the music. Trent cocked a brow at her, then turned inscrutable black eyes on the other girl.

"Hey, Daria."

Daria turned her head to the side, avoiding his gaze.

"Hey."

Trent frowned at her briefly, then brushed his annoyance aside. "So what'd you think of the song?"

Daria's lip twitched and she laughed, though not unkindly. "It has a beat, and you can dance to it-_if_ you have no shame."

"Daria thinks Mystik Spiral sounds like a Doors cover band that plays brew pubs," Jane cut in, smiling. "Don't you, Daria?"

Daria smiled back. "Please, Jane; don't give them ideas."

Trent was frowning openly now, and was only distracted from the remark building behind his lips by Jesse's mild voice.

"We have a gig this weekend?"

"Nah," Trent sighed, letting his annoyance-verging-on-anger go. "We're going to Alternapalooza this weekend."

Talk soon turned to the festival and after a bit of hemming and hawing, it was decided that Daria and Jane would accompany the men on the condition they provided gas money.

With a last tongue-in-cheek remark tossed over her shoulder, Daria followed Jane up the stairs and out of the house.

Trent only noticed his jaw had been clenched shut when the door closed behind her.

**o.o.o**

The girls joked as they waited for the ride at the curb in front of the Morgendorffer home. Having decided that her usual outfit was impractical for a four-hour ride and day sitting in grass and dirt, Daria stood in a pair of baggy jeans and old black tee-shirt. Her usual ball-stompers peeked out from the bottoms of her pants, promising pain to any who provoked her.

The Tank rumbled and backfired its way to the curb and Jesse pulled open the side door for their passengers. Daria stepped up and knocked her head soundly on the low door frame.

"Watch your head," Trent called sarcastically and Daria took a moment to spare him an icy glare before pulling the door shut.

Once both girls were seated on the old trunk in the back of the van, they started their journey in earnest.

The men became somewhat agitated after their stop at a toll island, something about a former classmate now turned tollbooth operator.

"You'll never see me in a job like that," Jesse vowed.

Daria laughed, "Because it falls under the category of 'employment?'"

Trent grit his teeth against a retort. "Hey man, we're artists. Who knows where we'll be in 5 years."

Jane winced as she noticed Daria's smile out of the corner of one eye. Daria's fangs were showing, and that was never a good thing.

"Still living over your parents' garage?"

Trent shot the girl a nasty look and fell silent. Jesse, oblivious as ever, nodded to himself.

"This guy's not about selling out."

"Well, for that to happen," Daria intoned, leaning forward to smirk at the muscled musician. "You'd need someone interested in buying."

There was an ominous creaking as Trent's hands clenched down on the steering wheel. For the next few miles, all was silence.

**o.o.o**

Not long into the drive, Trent hit a rather large pothole and Daria went flying to the floor. She grimaced at the hard landing, eyes flashing like daggers in moonlight at Trent's chuckle,  
>"Didn't see that one coming."<p>

"Anyone smell peanut butter?" Jesse sniffed at the stale air, and Daria groaned in dread.

Standing shakily, Daria reached behind herself and felt a strangely hard something sticking to the seat of her jeans. She grasped it and yanked to find a decrepit sandwich spotted with mold. Her stomach lurched in disgust and she tossed it away. It flew a short distance before colliding with the back of Trent's head, sticking for the briefest moment, then sliding down and plopping back to the floor.

The sandwich's victims locked eyes in the rear-view mirror for a long moment, then Trent returned his attention to the road.

Jane switched her gaze between the two uneasily, praying that there were no more surprises in store for the day.

**o.o.o**

After Jane's failed attempt to save Daria from a bee sting, the pilgrims pulled into the parking lot of a diner and piled out. Jane pulled the sliding door shut, grimacing at the large smear of peanut butter on Daria's jeans. She decided not to call it to the girl's attention, and simply followed her inside.

Jane interrupted Daria while the smaller girl was ordering lunch.

"Come one, Daria," she cajoled gently. "You need something more than that."

After a bit of half-hearted argument, Daria conceded to Jane's prodding and ordered a turkey club and fries.

"You kids going to that rock and roll shindig up near Sweadsville?"

"No," Daria replied snidely. "We made a wrong turn on the way to Paris."

Jane and Jesse chuckled, but Trent glared at the girl. She seemed not to notice.

After lunch, they piled back into the van and continued their journey.

**o.o.o**

Traffic thickened considerably and the van came almost to a full stop. Daria was grateful, as her full stomach had been making copious complaints since shortly after they left the diner. The Tank's windows had been pried open, and now a mixture of exhaust and fertilizer fumes drifted back into the van. Daria's stomach lurched ominously as she stood and stumbled to the door.

"Hey," Jane called, standing. "You okay?"

"What's up?" Trent glanced into the rear-view and smirked at Daria's slightly green face.

"I think Daria's sick."

"What's going on?"

"It's Daria," Trent replied, trying to keep his amusement out of his voice. "She's gonna barf."

Daria had gotten the door open by this point, and stumbled toward a line of trees before blowing her guts. Jane had followed her, and held the girl's hair out of her face until she was finished.

Daria groaned as they walked back toward the van, and stumbled as her foot hit a rock. Jane managed to catch her before she went sprawling and a moment later, they were back inside.

Jesse looked back at the girl, eyes concerned.

"Cool, Daria?"

She offered him a small, watery smile and nodded.

Trent chuckled to himself, not bothering to hide it, and Daria felt her eyes narrow behind her glasses.

"Something funny, Trent?"

He grinned into the mirror, dark eyes sparkling with cruel mirth. Jane gaped at the unfamiliar expression, speechless.

"Just got an idea for a good song title," he replied, voice unusually excited. "_Technicolor Yawn_."

"That reminds me," Jesse piped up vaguely. "You owe me a shirt."

Daria seethed in the back, eyes boring holes into Trent's head. He smiled and accelerated as the traffic thinned.

**o.o.o**

They were in the middle of a increasingly tense road game, Daria and Trent jabbing at one another in slowly heating animosity, when the Tank hit another pot hole. Daria lurched forward as the impact robbed her of her glasses and remaining dignity.

Jesse retrieved the broken spectacles from the littered floor, pressed their broken halves together and smiled.

"I can fix 'em."

The mended glasses were handed back, and Daria replaced them with a put-upon sigh.

"Duct tape. Of _course_."

"I can think of another use for it," Trent muttered acidly, and Daria had just opened her mouth to retort when a clanking and grinding came from the engine. At just that moment, it stalled and thick smoke drifted upward from the hood.

"_Now_ my day's complete."

Trent spared her one last scathing glare before he and Jesse exited the van. The girls soon followed.

**o.o.o**

Jane and Jesse went off to look for somewhere to call for a tow truck, and Jane glanced back at the pair they were leaving behind.

"You sure this is a good idea, Janey?"

Jane glanced up at Jesse, frowning.

"Yeah. Give them two some time to work out whatever the hell's going on with them." She grinned suddenly, blue eyes shining. "Either they'll kill each other, or clear the air. Either way, it's a quiet ride home."

Jesse considered this a moment, then nodded.

"Cool."

They kept following the sound wall at a leisurely pace, determined to give Daria and Trent the time they needed.

**o.o.o**

Trent had hauled his guitar out of the back of the Tank and sat strumming in an attempt to cool his head. Daria sat a short distance away, frowning down at the grass. Trent rolled his eyes and went back to his guitar.

Finally, the silence became more oppressive than peaceful and Daria looked up.

"What chord is that?"

Trent stopped strumming and glanced at her. "G."

Daria nodded. "Oh."

Trent's eyebrow twitched as he waited for one of her usual sarcastic barbs, but none came. The tension drained out of him as he continued to strum. A loud sigh came from his left, and out of the corner of one eye he saw Daria lean back on her arms and turn her head in his direction.

"So, tell me." Trent felt his eyebrow twitch again at her tone. "Does it count as a song if it only has one chord and no melody?"

"I don't know," Trent shot back, putting the instrument aside with a snarl. "Do you count as a girl if you have no tits and a flat ass?"

Daria's face flushed and her eyes flew open in shock.

"What the hell is your problem?"

"My problem?" Trent clambered to his feet and Daria followed. "All you've done since you got in that van is bitch and complain. I don't remember inviting you!"

"Jane invited me!" Daria shot back, fists clenched. "And you would never have even gotten this far if I hadn't paid for the gas!"

"Oh, big whoop! So mommy and daddy were kind enough to reach into their treasure chest and throw you a few extra gold coins," Trent sneered, advancing on the girl. "It must be so hard for you in that big house of yours, with parents who pay the bills and give you whatever you cry for."

"Like you have it so hard?" Daria took a step forward and craned her head back to glare into Trent's face. "I don't see you breaking your back at a 9 to 5, Trent."

"What the hell do you know? All you do is read your books and toss your insults, what the hell do you know about the real world?"

"The real world?" Daria repeated incredulously. "Trent, the closest you've come to the 'real world' is MTV."

"I can't fucking stand you!" Trent yelled, heat rising in his chest. Daria's eyes sparkled behind her lopsided glasses, color high in her cheeks.

"Well I loathe you," she hissed.

There was barely an inch between them, now. On some unspoken signal, they crashed together, hands pulling at hair and clawing at one another's bodies. Their lips met with frantic energy as Trent lifted Daria into his arms and carried her back to the Tank.

**o.o.o**

Jane and Jesse returned around sunset, carrying the offending piece of engine and inexplicable armfuls of fresh corn. Daria and Trent reclined on the grass, hair disheveled and clothes askew.

"There was nothing behind that wall but a corn field," Jane informed them with a sigh as she deposited her burden on the grass. "And the corn wasn't very helpful."

"Helpful Corn!" Jesse exclaimed smiling. "That's a good name for a band."

Daria snorted, though her expression was considerably calmer than when Jane had last seen her.

"Maybe for a half-assed bluegrass group drunk on moonshine."

"Yeah?" Trent turned lazy eyes on the teen, smirking. "Can you think of something better?"

Daria smirked back, eyes shining. "I've got a few ideas."

Jane watched the two with something not unlike horror. She reached down and plucked what looked like a retainer from Daria's hair, held it up and raised both eyebrows as far as they would go.

"Something you want to say, amiga?"

"Yes." Daria's face broke out into a rare, full smile as she hopped up onto her feet. "Shotgun!"

Jane stepped cautiously into the van and was unsurprised to find a torn sports bra decorating the trunk she and Jesse would be using as a seat for the next few hours. With a sigh, she tossed it onto the floor and sat, pulling the husk from an ear of corn and removing the silk with long fingers.

Soon, it would just be another of the Tank's relics, and no one would ever realize it wasn't already there.

**End**.


End file.
